I live in a ghetto building in Harlem near 125th street. If you are unfamiliar with what makes an apartment ghetto, please allow me to explain:

• The front door is always left open which allows strangers, homeless people, rapists and urinators to come and go as they please.
  
• My roommate and I are the only white people, and the only nonsmokers. The smoke seeps through our walls and our place reeks of smoke!
  
• People throw their trash into the hallway so they don't stink up their own apartment.
  
• It was built before elevators where invented and we live on the 5th floor.
  
• The apartment next to my bedroom blares the same music all afternoon every day, and it's horrible mexican/polka music.
  
• The apartment below my bedroom is a recording studio from 11pm-5am. The music is so loud my bed vibrates, which may sound fun, but really isn't.
• We each have one outlet in our bedroom and none in the bathroom.
• The wiring is so old we aren't allowed to have an AC.
  
• There's a dance club down the street that blares music every Saturday night from 4-4:30am.

Okay, I'm starting to get depressed so that's enough for now. The point is, none of this ever bothered me much. I liked my cheap rent and I liked living on the edge, "Will I be murdered on my way home tonight!?" It's so exciting, you never know! Until last Tuesday night at 1am. My bed was vibrating as usual. I was so tired and frustrated I stomped on the floor to let the person below know he was being an A-hole, so turn down the music! A few minutes later I was brushing my teeth when someone pounded forcefully on the door. I'm no genius but I know not to open my door in Harlem to an angry man banging at 1am. So I woke up Nora and she was brave enough to open the door (she had talked to the neighbor before and he seemed normal).

He proceeded to flip out on us. Yelling at me for stomping on his ceiling. We asked if he could keep it down after midnight. He told us we were "lil beeyotches" and "oh no, we di'int" tell him what to do. So naturally, I got pissed. He was the one being unreasonable and I was not going to lose this argument. But then he said, "You best shut chur mouth or I'm gonna send some'n after you an cut yer face!" He started to come inside our apartment and I forcefully kicked the door shut in his face. He left and turned the music up twice as loud until 3am.

So now I'm thinking of moving (mostly because my dad really wants me out of this neighborhood) and the signs to get out just keep slapping me in the face, such as this morning when I woke up to a faint rustling sound. MOUSE! Was my first thought, but after careful listening I followed the noise to a bag of granola on my dresser. I hadn't ziplocked the bag well enough and a giant cockroach had crawled inside, but couldn't get out.

Ewww. Not having the time or guts to deal with it I folded the top of the bag and put bobby pins to keep it shut. When I got back the roach was dead. Whoever said roaches could survive the apocalypse was mistaken. This guy couldn't even survive a bag of all natural fruit and nut granola for 1 day.

Check out all that wasted granola! I did get it for free from the Sex & the City 2 set, but heartbreaking non the less.